


On the Ropes

by fragrantwoods



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, F/M, Kink Meme, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragrantwoods/pseuds/fragrantwoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistress Roslin shows Bill the ropes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Ropes

Title: On the Ropes  
Pairing: Bill Adama/Laura Roslin  
Word Count: 800  
Rating: MA (warning for BDSM)  
For [](http://bsg-kink.livejournal.com/profile)**bsg_kink** prompt Bill Adama/Laura Roslin: breath, ropework, AU where Laura is a specialist at bondage and it's Bill's first time  
Summary: Mistress Roslin shows Bill the ropes...

 

 

“Do you have a deadline for this?” The willowy redhead had stripped down to skin and stood by piles of neatly coiled ropes of various lengths and thicknesses.

“Um, no…not really. I just--” Bill’s breath was becoming more ragged the longer she stood there. He grabbed at excuses, trying to find something more plausible than the truth: he’d become infatuated with the cards around town with Mistress Roslin’s picture on them.

“No need to explain, Mr. Adama. We want what we want,” she said, her expression saying she’d seen this before.

“Just, if it—the opportunity presented itself, I’d want to know what I’m doing.”

“Good for you.” Her smile was suddenly more genuine. “I like a man with respect for the craft. Shall we begin?”

Bill lost track of time as she talked him through the knots and hitches. He’d always seen knots as a way of keeping things together. Now that he was seeing how their rough thickness could stimulate, he’d never look at them the same way again. Finally, he was ready to stand back and look at the whole piece.

The full effect almost had him coming in the boxer briefs he’d foolishly asked to keep on. Twin lengths of rope circled each breast, pulling them high and tight. Every deep breath she took caused his careful knots to brush against her nipples, bringing a rosy flush to the erect tips.

From there, the rope circled her waist and looped between her legs. He saw now why she’d picked out the soft cotton blend, too thick to cut into skin. The thick strands nestled into her labia, opening and pressing in a way that made his mouth water. A clever cross pattern hugged her clit from both sides, and even the slightest movement made her gasp and bite her lip.

He hoped he hadn’t sounded too much of a nugget. It was fine when she was instructing him on how to tie her wrists to the supports behind her back. They could have been talking about laundry...

Working with her breasts was another story. Her patient, almost clinical explanation of tension and pressure sounded like the dirtiest talk imaginable coming from her.

When he was on one knee, trying to concentrate on where he was putting the rope, her casual use of “pussy” and “clit” had him shaking. He’d given her a panicked nod when she asked him to note how wet she was getting, to pay attention to the combination of mental and physical sensations…

The sensations that he was giving her.

That thought made him even harder, if that were possible. He didn’t know if he wanted her to notice or not. He was here for instruction, after all…

With her guidance, he raised her arms over her head and re-bound them to the top of the supporting rack. Her back arched and he could feel the slight trembling in her thighs as the movements worked their magic against her sensitive nerve endings.

There was a slight breathlessness in her instructions, and he wondered if she got this turned on with her regular clients.

“See how the tension on the ropes is…pulling me…more open?”

Oh, Gods, yes, he saw. She was still trying to explain the dynamics of orgasm denial in bondage when he found his mouth closer to the dampening rope than he expected. He listened for her safe word as he breathed lightly over her glistening center but all he heard was hissed gasps and a whispered _“please.”_

It was enough. He’d barely started to lick around the white rope when she began to writhe in her bonds. Her tendons corded like cables as he drew his tongue over her folds again and again, until he tugged on the rope with his teeth, pulling it harder against her. Mistress Roslin froze in place for a timeless moment, mouth open and eyes wide, then moaned, high and sweet.

He was there to catch her when she fell against the structure, limp and sweat-soaked.

Thank the gods she’d showed him the quick-release tricks.

She was still explaining how that usually didn’t happen when he picked her up and asked if there was a regular bed somewhere in her studio. Her small grin, completely at odds with her Mistress persona, told him there _absolutely_ was.

The red marks were still vivid against her pale skin when she sank down on his cock, giving him slow rolls and shallow thrusts that flowed together into one long blissful frak. She was magnificent...and the extra frisson of black rope circling his wrists, holding them tight, did him in.

As he slowly caught his breath, her soft curls snuggled against his chest, he decided he could get used to this.

Being all tied up had never sounded so good.  



End file.
